


The Sketchbook

by OptimisticJamie



Series: Anea Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family Relationships - Freeform, Fluff, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimisticJamie/pseuds/OptimisticJamie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her parents, her Keeper, herself. Letters from Vol and Myril at various stages of their lives within the Inquisition, letters from Josephine, Cassandra, Leliana, and, later, Cullen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sketchbook

**Author's Note:**

> So Anea is an exceptionally skilled artist and she carries around sketchbooks in which she draws whatever takes her fancy at the time.
> 
> All of her sketchbooks though contain intricately drawn maps and diagrams of prime hunting grounds her and her brother use when food is running low in the Clan. After the conclave she uses it to document the different demons she encounters, blessed with a photographic memory it takes her no time to sketch down the uglier demons. In it she also draws members of the Inquisition, weapons, mounts, literally anything. Eventually it becomes a logbook of sorts. It is lost when Haven is destroyed and she is absolutely buttered because it contained portraits of her clan and family members…
> 
>  
> 
> Cullen totally looked at every drawing in the sketchbook when it was handed to him, taking care not to lose any of her collected letters. He probs would have seen a lot of portaits of himself in there too.
> 
> Anea is the oldest of four siblings; Next comes her brother Vol who is also a hunter like herself. Her sister Myril is a sword and shield warrior, Frell would have been a knife weidling rouge like his oldest sister.
> 
> “Stalker” is the knickname Vol gave Anea after their first hunting expedition together because he admired her skills in stalking game.

“That journal is looking rather battered now wouldn’t you say, Stalker?”

Anea looked up from her sketching to find her brother Vol sitting on the log beside her, his bow slung over his shoulder and their kills in sacks at his feet.

“If it wasn’t for this sketchbook we’d be going hungry, Vol.” She replied, smudging the fresh pencil lines.

“Oh I don’t doubt that your maps and diagrams are extremely useful, but right now it looks like you’re drawing Myril with a Halla.”

Anea smiled “that’s correct.” She closed the sketchbook with a snap and tucking it in a pocket under her coat before standing up and shouldering her own packs of game. “The day is old, we must return to mother before dark.”

***

Vol picked up her bow and his game before following.

“What are you drawing, Herald?”

Anea snapped the book shut when Cassandra approached. Her gut twisted at the knowledge she had been sketching the Seeker herself, studying her stances and where she balanced her weight.

“Nothing. Just childish things.” She replied.

“May I see?” Cassandra asked politely.

Anea didn’t like people seeing her drawings for fear they’d ridicule her. Only her siblings had seen what she documented. She shook her head; “no. It’s just silly little drawings.”

Cassandra let the matter drop but didn’t leave for a few moments. Anea stood up and nodded to the Seeker before leaving. She’d have to finish that profile sketch later.

***

“That’s a Greater Terror?” Josephine exclaimed, leaning over the war table to get a better look at Anea’s drawing of the beast.

“I’m afraid it’s only a quick rendition. We were swamped by Apostates not long after.” Anea explained, reaching to take the journal back. It slipped from her fingers when she lifted it from the table and fell open on a portrait of Anea’s youngest sibling, her brother Frell. On the page next to him was a beautifully rendered Halla statue, a tomb plaque nailed to its chest with Frell’s name etched on it.

Anea snatched the journal back quickly, a page falling out, and cleared her throat.

Cullen picked up the paper that had floated his way, a quick glance told him it was from him. One of his letters of moral he often sent to the Herald when she was away from Haven. He handed it back wordlessly.

The tension in the air was enough for Anea to open her mouth; “H-he died…when the inquisition forces met my clan…he was caught in the crossfire from one of our clan’s enemies.”

“Is that his burial tomb?” Cassandra asked reverently.

Anea shook her head. “A spellbinder caught him. There was no body to bury, so the clan honoured him with a ceremony. But he told me he wanted to be buried to honour the Mother of Halla. As he did in life.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Leliana cleared her throat and all conversation turned to continuing the search for the missing soldiers.

***

“You need to rest.” Vol’s voice floated over Anea’s ears but she didn’t hear them. She was too busy frantically searching the pockets of her armour for her sketchbook.

A sob reached her lips when she didn’t find it. She turned to her brother who was perched at the end of the cot, her sister on her right and Cullen on her left. “Are you sure I didn’t drop it when I fainted?”

Vol nodded.

“It’s gone, Stalker.” Myril laid a comforting hand on Anea’s shoulder.

Anea lay back down on the cot and stared at the canvas ceiling of the hastily made tent. The journal had contained more than just simple maps and drawings, it has contained memories. Memories of their clan, of their brother who, as the oldest, she had sworn to protect and failed. It has sketches of his wife and children, all dead.  
Her parents, her Keeper, herself. Letters from Vol and Myril at various stages of their lives within the Inquisition, letters from Josephine, Cassandra, Leliana, and, later, Cullen.

Anea didn’t want to lose it. She rolled onto her side despite her body protesting and said: “leave me. I’m tired.”

***

It wasn’t a sketchbook but it would do till she had the coin to purchase another, a cheaper item that would fall apart quickly, but it would keep her sketches in one place.

The small stack of paper crinkled when she laid it out on a desk in Skyhold’s library. With quick deft strokes she sketched a rough picture of Skyhold from the mountains around it. Dorian sat across from her, watching her work intently.

When she began to glance up at him he looked at what she was drawing, the Skyhold drawing finished she had begun to sketch him, shading his cheeks and eyes by smudging the pencil.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. She looked up.

“What?”

“That’s not my good side.”

***

 

“Inquisitor, our scouting of Haven’s ruins proved fruitless. We will never be able to return.” Cullen explained at the war table.

Anea sighed; “I thought that might happen. Obviously I did my job too well.”

Leliana laughed, “a job well done.”

Cullen cleared his throat, bringing Anea’s attention back to him. She blushed slightly when he didn’t say anything right away.  
He moved and opened one of the chests on the table, it was filled with old reports and completed requisitions. Reaching in he pulled out a black, leather bound journal.

Anea recognised it right away. She reached out for it before Cullen even had the chance to close the chest.

“We found this,” he handed it to her.

The journal was well and truely battered now. The pages were wrinkled from the wet snow and ice. When she opened it the pages made rustling noises of protest and sounded like cardboard, but all her drawings were preserved. The way they were when she lost it.

She removed some of the letters and found them to be a little worse for wear but still in good condition. She smiled and looked up at Cullen. “Thank you.”

***

It wasn’t exactly a grand gift, but Cullen had insisted Mia get it commissioned. Maker knew she needed a new one, the one she bought has fallen apart long ago, held together now by her hands and a few lives of twine.

Cullen had given her a coin, and later a ring, and now wanted to see her sketch and map with as much vigour as she did when they first met.

Her and Vol would be returning from hunting soon. The harsh winter in the Frostbacks had prevented many of the Inquisition’s supply caravans from reaching Skyhold, as a result the Inquisitor and her party couldn’t leave Skyhold until the winter abated.

Looking out his office window he spotted Anea and her brother riding towards Skyhold, their mounts sure footed and heaving.

Walking down the stairs to greet her he watched as she and Vol each pulled an animal from their game sacks, her a young buck and him a ram. Plenty of meat to feed the soldiers for a few weeks.

Without waiting for confirmation they both drew a carving knife each and began to skin and gut the animals. Skyhold’s butcher watched with a slack jaw as the Inquisitor used all of her weight to break to buck’s ribcage and continue to skin it.

Once they had cleaned up Cullen greeted her with a warm smile and a hello.

“I got you something.” He said as he handed over the gift. A black leather bound sketchbook.

She took it in her hands and smiled up at him before kissing him on the cheek. Opening it she laughed at the first page, causing him to blush.

Cullen had tried his hand at drawing her, and while it was nowhere near as refined as Anea’s drawings always were she still smiled and traced her fingers over the pencil lines.


End file.
